


out of turn, out of tune

by Lua



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bipolar Sollux Captor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Post-Game, Sollux centric, Unbeta'd, or at least an attempt at it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 16:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10283669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lua/pseuds/Lua
Summary: Moving on and letting go of everything that happened would be a lot easier if you were just one version of yourself instead of a dumb mosaic of memories that aren't really yours."I take you up, you take me inLet’s take forever and a little bit"Forever and A Bit - Mother Mother[palestuck (spring 2017)]





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roundandtalented](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roundandtalented/gifts).



The first thing you notice is that you aren’t blind anymore, not that this version of you should be blind for any particular reason. You’re hit with an array of memories that aren’t yours but that can’t belong to anyone else and it happens so fast that you can feel a migraine coming. The explanation for all that stuff is obvious, you’re clearly not dead.

It sucks. Everything sucks but somehow this sucks more. You look at people you don't know and you are flooded with memories of them and feelings about them that some other you went around gathering. You look at people you do know and then it’s just unpleasant. You are not a damn noob, you are pretty sure this version of you is just a new, shittier upgrade that collected data from all the other versions of you and somehow ended up coming into existence because someone missed you. Or felt sorry for you. You don't know, you didn't want the details of how you got here when you woke up and the longer it goes on, the less inclined you get to ask. You were dead and the universe ended several times, and you died, again, several times.

Anyway, this universe didn’t take you into consideration because you, technically, didn’t win the game. That much you knew for sure.

Waking up in the grass, in a random planet in a new universe, was a big hint that you didn’t really win the game. It was really really bad. You’re not part of the winning team, so you belong in the whole group of dead trolls looking confused as shit and, yeah, that’s how one is supposed to feel when waking up in a new universe with all these memories and these welcoming smiles from people you aren’t supposed to know. It’s like they expected it to be a nice reunion and not awkward at all but you didn’t walk into it through a door and you weren’t created here so now you’re stuck in some sort of existential limbo.

Welcome home, pupa, how about a nice glass of awkward.

The problem with a new universe is that absolutely nothing really belongs. You cheated your way here and that you are more or less inclined to pretend you belong in it just because you ended up here doesn’t change the fact that you’re an outsider and it’s impossible. The options are pretending or quitting from the start and you chalk it up to some form of self-loathing that you didn’t stop it and just quit.

Everything in the new universe is new and that includes you which is bullshit. There are memories that aren't quite yours but that can't belong to anyone else because some version of you earned these and somehow it seemed like a good thing that this new version of you ended up with a library of useless info you will never revisit because you aren’t the person who could be fond of them doesn’t go away with time. At first, you figured useless memories are better than useless voices of the soon to be dead but it becomes annoying fast. They are all real but they aren’t. Well, at least you’re sticking to some sort of duality bullshit.

You half expect to have the skills you acquired through the game you helped unleash into your universe. You half expect to be blind or half blind or dead. Sometimes, you talk with an accent that isn’t yours. Everything is different. The humans have different habits and different everything to do anything and it’s infuriating. And depressing. Sometimes it’s both at the same time.

They allowed you into their universe, yeah, whatever. They have it covered. They don't need any of you to help fix things so you are now part of a support team that isn't in charge of anything and isn't really part of anything and doesn't really belong anywhere. You're free, yay. It takes you all two minutes to get sick of this brand new universe you woke in and that is supposed to be the ultimate reward or just a big sigh of relief by now. Having made peace with your own death before the game itself even started and having died - several times - made being dragged back from the sweet embrace of oblivion not the comfort you are being sold.

Your powers aren't exactly suited to rebuilding civilization and your mood isn't exactly suited to being part of it.

Everyone moves on, everyone is busy. The universe ended. Several times. Your relationships weren't meaningful anymore. You expect everyone to understand to some degree and, at the same time, you don't expect anyone to understand anything. It's fucking annoying and you shut them out.

You get yourself a place in a communal hive in the troll kingdom because you are used to it. The hives don’t look like what you are used to, but you can say that, by now, you are used to a lot of weird shit, so the place looks fine. It cracks you up to think KK is the new empress which he is adamant he isn’t, shut up you idiot. You promise to not laugh at him, but the promise is off when he shows up wearing a crown. In your defense, you laugh at TZ, too.

You don’t keep up with any of your friends, exes, you don’t know. You have too many unread messages at any given time, you get called a hermit every now and then.

Sometimes you feel like you can’t be part of it anymore. You feel dirty, you cheated your way here. Your friends aren’t the same friends you lost because you lost them when they were different or when you were different, whatever, it's dumb. You lost them in a different timeline and you aren’t sure which version of you misses who the most. It sucks.

You spend some of your time making up ridiculous stories about the creators and posting them online. You come up with obscure rumors and rituals for the new people to find and believe. If the mood strikes, you describe a whole stupid movie you remember from Alternia and you use your friends as the protagonists. It doesn't make for good rumors, but it makes for a hobby like any other. It's also a code of sorts and you know all the codes.

For it to be a code, you should be caught and, for you to be caught, your friends should read the same forums and message boards and blogs you do. It's like a secret handshake. You’re sick of feeling misplaced and nobody understanding what the hell keeps making you snap at them, so this whole thing makes you feel a little better.

Eridan is the first one to catch up to your shitty hobby, but you know it has nothing to do with being bored and coming up with secret languages like you’re two sweeps old and got into rebellion theories with your friends. You dig up history trivia about the creators and message KK about the uprising, you ask him if he’s checking his food for poison. He tells you to go fuck yourself. You ignore Eridan until ignoring Eridan bothers you because you’re concerned about his feelings. It’s stupid and you take a moment to actually roll your eyes at yourself.

You know the only reason he caught you is because he knew where to look and you know the only reason he knew where to look is because he got a private tour through your brain. You know you have no reason to get sentimental about him, but there is too much leftover knowledge to let go.

There are so many versions of you smashed together into this lousy excuse of a functional troll and you have a ridiculous amount of shitty memories that blur together in an unending reminder of complicated nonsense and pointless duality. It's not like it's unexpected or surprising in any way after you grew up hearing the voices of the imminently deceased and got tricked by your friend into coding the game that got you here, but you drew the line of being done forever ago.  You’re sick of it and, by it, you mean everything, but especially waking up with a lingering memory that just happens to be the theme of the day like it just happened to you.

Eridan doesn't leave your head for days. You hate it. You go outside for the first time in who knows how long and you hate the game and your friends and yourself and the universe and yourself again.

The feeling of emptiness hits you hard. It fucking sucks and you slam your own door when you get back to your hive. You're angry and you don't know exactly what is causing it which only pisses you off more. You feel like messaging any of your friends just to tell them to piss off because they suck and this universe sucks and the game sucked and you suck more than everything else combined. You don't. You feel a migraine coming in. You hate this place, you hate this world, you hate their ridiculous kingdoms and every citizen in them. Your friends are all idiots.

For two seconds, you consider destroying a wall with a blast of psionics just because. You don't. You open Karkat's messaging window. You close it. You could probably fly away somewhere and....and what, loser, this is it, game over, congratulations, you screwed yourself. Loser.

You open Eridan's tab and tell him to fuck off from your head before you can’t stop yourself. A migraine hits before you care to check your messages again.

You loathe the idea of him for some time, a couple weeks, maybe. Of all the possible has-been-were-not relationships the game left you with, this is the suckiest one. Eridan has been in your head. You wonder if he remembers it at all, but you come to the conclusion there is no way to bring it up without considering you both probably feel some way about the whole thing. Maybe he forgot all about you. Or maybe you didn't even cause enough of an impression on the guy. You keep your pants off, the outside world outside and yourself away from Eridan.

By the time you ran out of food, you are ready to accept you are lonely. You’re also convinced you’re not waxing pitch for that douche which comes as a relief as much as acceptance that your issues have issues.

It’s an embarrassment that you had to sit there and reevaluate if whatever you feel is leftover passion from another you, a younger you that is dead and will remain dead, or your own actual feelings. This is where you’d laugh if it wasn’t your teenage angst taking over your whole hive. You see Eridan’s handle come online and you don’t feel like talking to him. You’re uncomfortable because you know him better than you ever wanted to and it takes a conscious effort to not empathize too much.

You don’t even know what he’s up to. You refuse to keep tabs on him.

“Everything sucks” was his last message. You have to agree and oh shit, you aren't ready for this new universe. Whatever, being immortal gives you time to deal with stupid shit anyway.

You think he’s probably sulking, too. You think he’s probably lonely, too. There is a version of yourself who knows him in all the ways you could know him, there is a version of you who experienced him. It's disgusting. Looking at Eridan’s handle, you know he also feels upset over the idea of sharing that much with you. You leave him alone and you disappear. You have an eternity to come to terms with anything. You don't care. Screw it.

You hate yourself. You spend the day in bed. Everything annoys you. The bees are buzzing too loud, the air is too airy, the universe is too shitty.

You pass the time coding and making up stories to spooky a bunch of pupas that seem all too impressed by people you know too intimately to hold that level of respect for. You heard rumors your friends might have changed, you’re sure they heard rumors about you too. You message them enough to be left alone. They are busy people anyway.

You set up the whole apiculture network for this place. You could argue you’re busy as a bee, too, if anyone asks.

You don’t care to keep track of the time, you think you picked that habit from being dead for so long in the game. Eventually, you wake up with no sense of how much time has actually passed since you decided to become a hermit and you feel disgusting. The whole place is gross and you need to do something about it. You feel an urge to be clean and to get outside. You want to see this new universe you heard so much about. Your friends or whatever they are because you don't really know this version of these people are out there just waiting for you to join them in their godly shenanigans. You get up, you shower. You feel like a new troll.

You message everyone you feel close to. As poorly as you kept in touch, you guess vaguely messaging your friends is better than dropping off the face of the planet. You don’t know where or when they are. No one you had a relationship with is that version of themselves anymore and, if they are, you aren't and everything is such bullshit that it’s funny. You want to be social but that doesn't mean you want to see anyone in particular. You want to see everyone and do everything, you may change your mind about it later so you just go ahead.

It's still an odd concept for you that people choose to live during the daytime. It seemed wrong when you got revived here and it seems wrong now. Even so, now you’re buzzing with a new-found desire to enjoy it.

You go out and the new people act like you are to be feared or respected. It's annoying. You realize you are some sorry excuse of elder except you aren't doing anything an elder should do because most of the time you stay home and the most you interacted with strangers in the past decade was with the humans who also code because you all like to outcode each other. It's not even proper interaction but you are sure they would know if you caught a cold and wish you well by sending you virtual soup as their flag. These kids have no idea who you are. You wonder if there are rumors about you. Maybe it's your aspect. Maybe your friends are douchebags who also enjoy spreading rumors.

You make it a point to find out later who decided to get revenge on you but, for now, you give up on getting groceries and get out of there. By getting out of there you mean you walk out and fly away. It started to piss you off more than it amuses you and you want something to take your anger on. You should fill up your quadrants like Karkat said. You think everyone you know is doing that and it also annoys you because you have eternity now, so what's the point in growing up and getting old the old-fashioned way? Of course, that's just an excuse but you don't know who would put up with your stupid self and you like to think you are past dating your friends.

You blast a tree or two with psionics, you feel you should give the locals something to truly fear because you’re an asshole.

You get a message from Eridan and for a moment you wonder if he developed psych powers or if he’s stalking you. You don’t answer him so it startles you when he yells at you.

“Sol!”

You look down and find him on the ground, so stalking it is. It’s an unexpected relief and you aren’t really sure why. You realize he can't fly, he didn't finish the game either.

“Will you just get the fuckin down already,” he messages you instead of yelling.

You’re sure he’s glaring at you because you feel judged. You forgot his questions sound like demands and it pisses you off like hell. It’s also somewhat soothing so you float down and shrug at him. You wonder if he misses floating everywhere and you hate yourself a little for that. You get the impression he wants to shoosh you.

You stare at him, he stares back at you. His stupid earfins twitch.

"Everything fuckin sucks," he says after a long time.

You agree because it's true.

“Maybe it sucks more that you disrupted my…,” you shrug again since you don’t know how to describe whatever it was that was going on.

“Well, maybe I didn’t wanna to disrupt your freak out and I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t scared off the locals.”

"Oh god, are you playing lusus or hinting pale? I'm getting mixed signals,” you grin at him.

You aren't sure why you're trying to aggravate him, you have no black feelings for him. It’s funny, you think you missed him. No, of course, you miss him. You hate yourself, not him, not really.

In the end, you’re disgusting enough to invite him over to your hive. Nothing he says surprises you and you need a constant effort to remind yourself this isn’t the guy you knew in the game or before the game. You aren’t that guy either so whatever. You didn't expect to meet him, you didn’t expect to bring him over to your place.

You don’t know how to play host so you sit in silence with him. It’s awkward. The experiences you share seem too personal to be casually brought up even if you two had decided you were now friends. You’re just guys who shared a body. And who tried to kill each other.

You wonder if all the versions of yourself blinded by him are the reason the idea of Eridan sometimes pisses you off. You decide to avoid that thought; you come to the conclusion a Mind or a Light player probably suffers a lot with all that introspection going on.

He doesn't say anything and you expected that. You get tired of it, it’s boring. Eridan being here doesn’t make anything better and you’re sure you don’t make anything better for him either. You both have an eternity you aren’t sure what to do with it.

You aren't even sure you want it.

You lock yourself in your room and make up more stories about the creators. Eridan is smart enough to either find the door on his own or to message you asking for help.

In the end, Eridan doesn't leave and you don't kick him out. Maybe he doesn't leave because you didn't kick him out and continue to not do it, but, you don't mind him. On top of that, you spend most of your time in your block and that you aren't sure how much time he's been camping on your couch when you finally reemerge, but you’re pretty sure you came up with a new coding language so it was worth it.

"You're going to live here now?" you ask him on your way to get food. He doesn't answer. Or he does and you don't hear it. Whatever.

You ignored him, but you’re very much aware he has feelings that get hurt and that make him have bitchy fits. Of all the memories you have, of all your experiences from the game, sharing an existence with the douche in your couch is one you make a conscious effort to avoid. It doesn't work but it makes you feel better to keep trying.

You have more food than you remember stocking and, had Eridan gone home like well-mannered guests are prone to do when left unattended for days, you would be questioning your sanity. He didn't, so you aren't. Instead, you are left with the realization that that nubslurping loser is trying to take care of you. It’s such a cliché pale move, you message Karkat. You change your mind and start regretting it as soon as you hit send so you tell him it’s nothing and he replies with a wall of text you’re pretty sure can be summed up by telling you to fuck off while reassuring you that you’re still friends.

You think Eridan made this move because you can’t outright reject him like this, he gets to play it cool. The idea of Eridan playing it cool is hilarious and it entertains you while you look for food.

You grab a bag of chips and walk back to your room only to get your husktop. You aren’t sure if you feel bad for him or if you’re embarrassed on your own behalf. You sit on the couch with your husktop on your lap and you push your feet under Eridan’s thigh because it’s been well-established you’re an asshole. He’s an asshole too, so he should expect your feet tucked under his thigh. He complains about your stinking feet and your claws and are you a goddamn cave troll Sol, but you pretend to not hear any of it because you shared a brain with him and you know better than that.

He doesn’t leave after that and you still don’t kick him out. Eridan's as insufferable as you remember him and that's a relief. Something that stayed the same. Something you know, someone you know, and you know him better than you should or wanted to know so you don’t second guess yourself too much on that. It’s easy to let him stay even if you hate him for being lonely because you are lonely too and you want to hate him for reminding you about that while he's still the douche who blinded you and you feel bad for him because you feel him and it's wrong! You shouldn't have to live with someone else's memories. You feel like your thoughts are going through some sort of fog.

Eridan just ends up making himself at home on your couch, but you know him as well as he knows you. Sometimes you find yourself speaking with an accent that isn't yours and it makes you cringe and grit your teeth, you think he should've at least made a proper proposition. You are a disgusting mess.

You are angry and bored, you know it isn’t Eridan’s fault and he knows it isn’t his fault but you want to argue. You feel betrayed by everyone and you hate it, you hate them.  You don't belong here, you didn't earn your place here and your friends shouldn’t be the mismatched collection of memories you have of them.

“You even have a home”, you spit at him with more annoyance than you meant to do when you find him in the kitchen. It’s like he lives here.

Eridan watches you, you wait. Your patience is nowhere to be found.

“It’s like you go out of your way to disrespect me. I’ve been doing nice stuff for you and you've been...” he complains. You suppose he’s earned a right to complain, you’ve been annoyed with life lately. “Whatever.”

A wave of self-loathing hits you, tries to drown you and leaves you tired and hopeless at the imaginary beach of your metaphor. You think Eridan gets you and maybe he’s here because he thinks you get him, but you’ve been acting shitty and getting shittier when he's around.

“It’s all about tactics?” you snort. You heard that from him at some point, you don’t know the details. It seems to put him at ease.

"What crawled up your nook that you’re being such an ass? Is it a migraine?" he asks you. You shake your head and slam a cupboard door you had opened to have something to do. You do it just because something in your house must be an outlet for your anger. Eridan watches you.

"It's every-fucking-thing," you say. It doesn't help, if anything, it makes you even more annoyed.

Eridan reaches out for your hand and pats it. You swear it was a cop-out of a pap. You squint at him.

"If you are going to hit on me, at the very least don't half-ass it," you spit out and go back to your room.

You aren't sure why you said any of that. Your issues’ issues seem to have issues now so you message Aradia. You miss her but you don't know where or when she is, and she doesn't reply anyway.

You haven't had a relationship in more time than you lived if you consider the time shenanigans of the game. You look up relationship advice online. It's useless. It's not completely different but it isn't your brand of romance and you don't want to reevaluate life while you sit in your room wondering if you made a move on Eridan. You suppose it fits you to run hot and cold on someone.

You pace around your room, sparking with nervous energy. He doesn’t come after you nor does he message you. It makes sense, you know there are insecurities on top of insecurities on top of anger holding him together. You all could say you’re held together by duct tape and each one of you got a special brand that’s unique to your battle scars. You snort, the whole thing is hilarious.

You captchalogue a bunch of cables and cords you have lying around. You have a lot of things lying around, but those actually resemble a pile.

You don't know why you picked those things for a pile. You think you miss the uncomfortableness of a proper pale pile. It's a good thing the youngsters will have the human influence pushing them to pick comfortable things to cuddle on, you think that would be somewhat awkward for you. You don't know if that would be awkward for fancy nobility with delusions of grandeur; Feferi was all about experiencing the world so you can't judge by her. In fact, this version of you can't judge at all.

You hesitate. It's an impulsive decision to throw a pile of discarded cables within Eridan’s line of sight and you aren't sure you won't hate yourself for it later when the pressing urge to do something goes away. It's pissing you off that he would half-ass his way into one of your quadrants. You aren’t sure your irritation with it is a sign you should just take whatever he’s offering because you need it or if you should demand to be fucking wooed.

You can’t believe someone who knows you inside out – or that at least had the means to know you uncomfortably well – would think you’d shy away from a direct proposition. Maybe you’d tell him to fuck off in a very creative way, maybe you’d make him fuck off in a very creative way. You sure as fuck wouldn’t get weird about it. Not at all like you are doing now.

You take a moment to consider the idea of Eridan as your moirail. Then you take a moment to consider if you want anyone going pale for you and that takes you down the uncomfortable path of knowing you swing back and forth over all your feelings about personal private emotional issues and you can’t really believe you go along with it except for the fact that’s pretty much who you are. You’re not sure where you’re going with the romantic crisis, but you sure as fuck won’t be going down that one road, right now, just to question it. You think about Eridan again.

You know him, you know a lot of versions of him. You know he has a lot of pedantic knowledge about stuff you don’t care about. You’d think a desperate douche like him would think to be more direct. This situation fills you with annoyance and if it keeps going you won’t be able to figure if you have pale feelings for him because you’ll be obligated to kill him and then it won't matter. You wonder if you could kill him this time, but the idea doesn’t really interest you and maybe that’s because he’s been going pale on you since you met him again. Shit. You realize you have been going pale on his as well. Maybe, you aren't sure and this isn't the time for a sub-crisis within the main one.

You message Karkat to know what's going on and to stall. He sends you a picture that may as well have come from AA and you don't ask him which quadrant he's sharing with his time player. You aren't sure humans can share quadrants or whatever but you don't feel like going through a fucking lecture on the subject.  By now you've learned it's just you, the losers who got revived, who got their memories jumbled up like it didn't matter. What is an endless loop of shitty memories that are yours but really aren't yours at all when you are having a big romantic circus with Eridan like a teenager?

You remind yourself that, at least, it’s a big romantic circus act two. The idea makes you laugh.

You go back to the living room. Eridan has noticed you and he's talking to you but you ignore him. You miss being dead, you were okay with a lot of things then. Screw it, you’re going to throw him into a pile and pap the shit out of him and if worse comes to worst, you two can walk away like adults who had an one-night stand.

That's how you find yourself with Eridan in a pile of wires and cables. It's uncomfortable as hell. He sniggers.

"What," you demand.

Eridan shrugs.

"Thought you'd have a better pile."

You wonder if there is a version of you who was never in a horn pile with Feferi.

"At least cables don't honk," you shrug back at him. You weren't planning on any of this but someone had to do something.

You are aware of his feelings. Not of his feelings for you but of his feelings in general because he's Eridan and he may not be the Eridan you shared a body with but if he's anything like you, that part of him is there, too. Even so, you aren’t about to let him question your freaking pile.

He’s sitting next to you, waiting, and you don’t know what to say. You suddenly wish you’d have watched KK’s stupid romcoms.

The game fucked all of you up, it's a good point to start but you don't feel like it. Eridan fixes it for you by putting a hand on your wrist. You're used to the colder touch of seadwellers and you can tell for sure that it's the touch itself that startles you; you should get a calendar because you can’t even tell how long it was since your last proper interaction, let alone the last time you got fondled.

 “You’ve been going off the fuckin rails, Sol.”

“What do you mean,” you ask and he shrugs. You know what he means so there is no point beating that dead horse and he knows it as well as you do. You stretch on the pile, trying to get comfortable. It was a terrible idea. “Maybe there is more to me than you think.”

Eridan snorts and moves closer. His arm is pressed against your arm and if you got any closer you might as well just mend together which thank you but no.

"All these fuckin feelins," you grit your teeth and try again. "These goddamn feelings."

Eridan nods and doesn’t laugh this time; he knows. You glare at him for good measure, he paps your cheek.

"And the memories," he adds.

You’re hit with the sudden urge to reassure him that blinding you didn’t make him a bad person. It also didn’t make you think of him as a bad person for that particular reason. You don’t think you know how to form coherent strings of words anymore so you look at Eridan instead. He smiles at you and you reach out and trace his earfin with the tip of your claw. You remember that used to feel kinda nice and since you never had an earfin, you think the version of you that shared a body with him experienced that to some degree. He’s pitiful. You wish you were naturally a little better at this because now it’s too late to get up, you know, forget it, I need to research pale moves like a fucking wriggler before I can proceed.

You must be a terrible excuse of a moirail.

“I don’t have a good track record at this,” he says before you can say anything. “I mean, I was pretty fuckin terrible in my romantic…pursuits.”

It’s embarrassing, you cope with it by playing with his hair.

“I guess so,” you look away because everything is awkward and embarrassing. You feel thirteen again, what with all the feelings and problems. “Well shit, you’re doing great this time. I’m pretty much flipping out.”

He snorts and makes a big event of rolling on his side, with his cape being tangled with the cables. If your feelings are truly pale, you need to find a better pile. You aren’t sure, you don’t want to commit to any sort of personal epiphany when someone is petting your horns. It makes you feel dirty like your emotions were accepting a bribe.

“Who are you trying to convince with this absurdity?” he rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t sound bothered. “Everyone fuckin knows there is more to moirallegiance than shooshpapping someone.”

You give him an unimpressed look and he has the decency to blush, but he’s right. You’re annoyed at yourself for not catching up to what you were doing with him. You’re annoyed at yourself for accepting his pale advances without paying attention. You can’t believe your shitty standards, you blame this new universe.

“Were you trying to be smooth,” you accuse more than ask him.

"Wasn't that you?" Eridan grins at you.

You decide right then that you’ll show him proper pale wooing, you’re going to woo him out of his dumb scarf. You're going to find the cheesiest palest movie and demand a reenactment. You have time to learn how and you got a cheat code to get the best score anyone ever got in this because you know him. You can’t believe you missed him.

Goddam it, you really do have shitty standards. Although...you’re surprisingly fine with it.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading it!
> 
> i hope it was enjoyable and i'm sorry for any mistakes that made it hard to read. i don't really ship them so it was quite the challenge but i tried my best with them  
> i took the title from the song forever and a bit by mother mother. it seems to fit with the idea that they have forever and a bit to work on their issues now


End file.
